Home, Home on the Range
by tiny-shining-star
Summary: The thoughts and feelings of a man who has just been through hell. "It had been so long since he'd been with a woman in that way."


**Prompt: Leon comes back from the Island with the line "It had been so long since he had been with a woman in that way."**

**Home, Home on the Range**

He never thought that he'd be so happy to see America. Home of the free and the brave, indeed. He was finally free from Sadler, as well as that little Napoleon wannabe and an obnoxious girl whose name he did not wish to speak of at this time. And anyone who wanted to question his bravery would be promptly kidnapped, flown over to that freakin' place, and kicked out of the plane. Just _see_ if they could come back alive.

Of course, they would not be alone. Oh, no, that would be _too_ easy. He would drop the most annoying girl he could find down there with them and tell them that if she does not come back alive, then neither will they. She will not be expected to wield a weapon in any way. She is a dainty little flower and could break a nail carrying around those big guns, let alone firing one.

They will be allowed one useful person, but he is going to run off a lot and eventually be killed. And let us not forget the rumors that must be spread about the sexual orientation of the two of them.

They will have a merchant to buy useful items off of, but they need money for that. Sure, the world is in peril and everyone's life is depending on you, but that is not reason enough to lower prices or, god forbid, just be given the stupid thing. It's not like the merchant even _uses _any of those things. And for that matter, why does he need all of that money, anyway? He is on an island with a bunch of zombies--it's not like he has to pay for anything. And he's way too creepy to go out in public. The police would have him within seconds of him throwing open his coat and asking someone, in that voice that just screams sexual predator, "Hello stranger, what're you sellin'?"

Let's not forget a woman that just _screams _sex. Running around, killing zombies in high heel shoes and a skin tight red dress that just begs one to take it off, take it all off. Lord knows that it was uncomfortable tracking and killing zombies with pants that tight after a little one on one with her.

It was not much of a homecoming. After what he had been through, he expected there to be a parade. Even if he was just given a balloon that said "Good job!" it would have been better than what he'd been given.

As soon as he and Ashley got off the plane that had taken them from the rendezvous point back to America, a swarm of people in bi-hazard suits carted them off to labs. He was not sure what they had done to Ashley, although being the president's daughter it was definitely less intrusive than what had been done to him. He was poked and prodded in places that he definitely did not want to be poked and prodded. Despite the fact that he told them, every single time they brought those shining instruments of torture near sensitive exposed flesh, that he had already taken care of the parasites in both himself and Ashley, they said that it was just a precautionary measure. And, while they had said that it would all be over soon, it seemed to be taking hours. If you asked him, he would tell you that the doctors were all perverts who just wanted a chance at his delicate rosebud.

It was about an hour later when he was allowed to dress. He did so as fast as possible and tried to pretend that he still had a least a few shreds of dignity left. Although after what he went through while getting a complete and thorough physical, he was not sure he had any left. He even questioned if certain parts of his anatomy could still be considered virginal. Stupid doctors should have just believed him when he said that he was parasite free. It would have saved them time and him from having to have places touched that even _he_ did not touch.

After he was ready, an officer escorted him to the president. Walking into the room, he could see Ashley hanging off of her father's side. He guessed that she had been more scared than her bravado had let on. He also noted grudgingly that she seemed to be showered and in fresh clothes. If she had gone through the same procedure that he had, she would not be looking so put together. He sure didn't.

"I want to thank you for saving my daughter." Well, at least _someone _seemed to be grateful for the hell that he went through to bring that girl home. He had to deal with monsters of all shapes and sizes, a maze of a island where everything you needed in order to progress was hidden in disgusting, dank, monster-infested areas about a mile away from your next destination, as well as fighting the desire to shoot her himself. If he heard her say "Leon, help," one more time, he may just go through with the many thoughts that had danced seductively around in his mind. Maybe everyone would just think that it had been an assassin who was after the president, and she just happened to have gotten in the way.

"I was just doing my job." Yeah, that's right. Play it cool. Act like all he had to do was walk down the hall and collect her from her bedroom and bring her back. It had been no sweat. No sweat at all. He had planned to ignore the fact that it felt as though he had a second layer of skin sticking to his own. Maybe he was part slime eel. He'd heard that they have an outer layer of mucus over their skin. He could not imagine that it felt much different. God, he needed a shower.

"If there is anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. We all owe you a great deal." They sure as hell owed him. He wondered briefly if asking for a private jet to fly him off to a Caribbean island where he would be waited on by exotic women for the next month would be asking for too much. Sadly, he supposed that it would. Besides, to speak the words out loud would ruin the image he tried so hard to maintain. He don't need no one. Maybe he could play it off as more the dry humor that he's so good at.

"Thank you, sir, but I would really just like to get cleaned up and rest now." A nice and polite request that he was sure could be quickly fulfilled. God, he _needed_ a shower.

"Hahaha, as you wish. You will be shown to your room immediately. I do wish to talk to you in the morning, though." Could he not even be given twenty-four hours to rest? Was that too much to ask? Maybe he should have requested permission to lock himself in a room and only be disturbed by a woman in a French maid uniform bringing him all his meals in bed. He pondered this for a few extra moments. Yes, that did sound nice. Too bad he didn't think of this before placing his request to just shower and sleep.

"Yes, sir." While the thought of blowing things up and shooting zombies and killing mad sociopaths did seem like a lot of fun, obeying your commander and chief? Not quite as much. But he would be a good little soldier and meet with the man early the next morning.

"Dismissed." With that, the same soldier who had shown him into the room turned to lead him to the room he would be staying in. As long as he had his own shower and a comfortable bed, he could care less which room of the White House he stayed in. Most people, he was sure, would be thrilled at the idea of sleeping in a room of the White House, but honestly he could care less at the moment. Maybe in the morning it would be more exciting. Yeah, right.

He had just gotten out of the shower and put on clean clothes, when a knock came at the door. Screw the twenty-four hours, he would be happy if he could even get two hours to himself. Did these people not realize that when he said he wanted to rest, that meant he didn't want to be bothered? He just wanted to hang up his gun, climb in that soft looking bed, watch some TV, and drift off to sleep.

Another knock came, slightly louder than the one before it. Everyone in this building hated him, he realized in that instance. He saved the world, and everyone hates him. The scientist, who defiled him in various ways; the president for making him wake up early in the morning; and now this person, who took it upon themselves to disturb the first moment of quiet time he had in days. More thoughts of death and mayhem ran through his head as he approached the door, which had just suffered the abuse of another pounding as the person on the other end of the door began to grow impatient.

On the other side of the door was the person he was sure hated him the most. Why else would she have just stood there screaming for help while he did all the work? It was not _that _hard to hold and shoot a handgun, for crying out loud.

"What?" That's right. Short, sweet, and right to the point. Maybe she would just say thanks and run back to her room. Sure, and maybe he would head on back down to the labs and let the doctors look him over some more.

"Are you sure you won't take me up on that overtime?" Ashley asked. She opened her robe to reveal a lacey pink bra and matching panties.

"Oh, my." He was not sure whether he should run to the toilet and empty the contents of his stomach in the most efficient manner possible, or if he should just bash his head off the floor after passing out. In the end he merely stood his ground. If he could handle zombies' heads exploding in his face and the multitude of other monsters he had encountered on his latest expedition, he could handle a barely post-pubescent girl coming on to him.

Although it had been so long since he had been with a woman in that way. He couldn't even remember the last one, had there ever been one. He was sure that there had, but he was a busy man and had little time for anyone besides his right hand.

Would it really be that bad being brought up on statutory charges? But she _was_ the president's daughter. With that being said, he was sure that the president could have him go on another little "mission" and never return. After the last, that was a chance he was not willing to take. Although… if she did not tell, and he did not tell, and he kicked her out of the room right after, maybe they could get away with it. One more look at her barely clad form gave him his answer.

"No." With those parting words, or word, he shut the door and went to watch some TV.

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**Author's Note**: Yay first story ever. Two of my friends, who are also writers, got together to write and said that I should write something as well. This is the result of the prompt. I hope you all find this as amusing as I did while writing it.

Hugs and Kisses

Star


End file.
